Return to Innocence
by SilverLight05
Summary: He didn't do it because he, too, loved her. He did it because he watned his best friend to be happy. Lancelot's POV OneShot


**A/N: I was watching _King Arthur_ for the third time of my life and as I watched Lancelot in the Saxon battle, I saw—and felt—that he didn't love Guinevere at the end. Rather he gave up so that his friend could be happy. So I got inspired by it, and the song_ Return to Innocence_ also inspired me further with Lancelot's thoughts. I hope you all will like it! Please review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that I am about to use nor the song _Return to Innocence_ by Enigma.**

**Return to Innocence**

The battle had started not too long ago. I don't even know if it has been hours or merely minutes. All I know is the hatred I feel for these foul men. Blood has spluttered all over my armor and my face, my double swords stained with Saxon blood. I cut down Saxon after Saxon, not really stopping to check on my friends. Though I did see Galahad somewhere near by a few seconds ago… Or was it minutes?

After stabbing the Saxon I was fighting, I noted none of the enemy was near me. I took that advantage to spot Arthur. Oh, how I hate that man at that moment. He may be my best friend, my brother, but sometimes Arthur only wants to be a damn hero! Who could blame him after Rome had abandoned him?

I spotted Arthur fighting with Saxons around him but that's not what caught my attention. I turned to the left to see the Woad woman. I can't believe that I would have fought for her just to bed her. I've seen the way she and Arthur looked to one another. Perhaps it _was_ best of me not to interfere, let Arthur be happy for once in his entire life.

Then I saw a bald Saxon slashed his sword across the woman's chest before punching her to the ground. Anger rose within in me as I looked towards Arthur, who was too busy fighting off three to four Saxons. Looking back at the Woad, I rushed to the left towards my beloved black stallion. There was no way I was going to get to her in time on foot with the enemy between us. Besides, she was on the other side of the damn fire!

Getting on my stallion, I urged him to a gallop, slicing down as many Saxon's as I can. Once over the fire, however, I halted my stallion and quickly dismounted with ease, my swords in hand. I watched as the Saxon kicks the woman down to the ground, the Woad weaponless. I hurried my pace as the Saxon raised his sword to stab the woman. But just inches from the kill, I had interfered.

Both Saxon and the woman looked up at me in surprise, not even expecting anyone to interfere with the killing. I merely smirked at the Saxon before pushing him away from the woman, whom quickly scrambles to a stand. She took hold of her weapon and rushes back into battle. My attention returns to the Saxon, continuing to smirk as I see the hatred of not able to kill the Woad himself.

We rushed forward, fighting swiftly against one another. But I had the upper hand with my double swords. As I blocked his attacks I had the advantage to slice him or stab him with my unoccupied sword. I wanted to insult and laugh at the Saxon but it will only make me cocky towards my enemy. I must admit, however, this Saxon could really put up a fight.

What would have taken mere seconds for me to kill a Saxon, was taking longer with this one. He must have been in second command or something alongside his leader if it was taking me this damn long.

Somehow we are both knocked down to the ground, I guess we tripped over a corps. But as I stand, two damn Saxons rushed towards me, making me to defend myself against them. I don't know why, but it was taking me longer to kill them. Perhaps it was due to the exhaustion I was feeling after fighting too long with the other Saxon.

With a sigh after killing the two Saxons, I turned to continue my battle with the other. But I was taken back as an arrow pierced through my armor. The force of it made me take a step back. I looked down at the black feathered end of the arrow in surprise before looking up at the Saxon with pain and rage. The Saxon smiles in triumphant, believing that he had won.

Oh, how wrong was this idiot.

With as much strength as I possible could, I brought back my right arm and threw my swords to the Saxon, whom was about to walk towards me to finish me off. I grunted in pain but was joyous to see my aim was still best. My sword thrusts itself into the Saxon's chest, who had looked down at it with much surprise as I did with the arrow.

But I had little strength in me. I had fallen to my knees in pain, the Saxon falling to his side. I began to crawl towards him to _finally_finish him off—somehow still holding on to my other sword. The Saxon, too, crawled towards me as he saw my other sword. When we were close enough, we stood upon our knees and I was about to stab him when he took hold of the handle as well. The both of us struggled to overpower one another, wanting to live.

Though I knew I wasn't going to live after this. My blood was quickly leaving me, making me weaker and weaker. I prayed silently in my head to the Gods, to give me strength to finish this idiot once and for all.

After several moments of constant struggle, I finally managed to overpower the Saxon, giving thanks to the Gods that have answered me. I slowly aimed the tip of my sword towards the Saxon's neck. I saw the fear and the wanting to live in his eyes, but I took no mercy on him as he and his vile people took no mercy on _anyone_.

I plunged my sword through his neck, watching him fall to the ground dead. I, too, fall back to the ground, away from the Saxon, thank Gods. But the pain I was feeling was unbearable. I felt my mouth open and close, as though trying to call for help. I can't believe that this was to be my end. But I did tell Arthur that I was to die in battle one of these days. Perhaps this _was_ the day.

The life continued to leave me, my eyelids growing heavy. I still cannot believe myself that I have joined my best friend on this battle when I could be alive and free… away from all this chaos. But my beloved stallion… he knew… he knew that although I have finally managed my freedom, I was needed here.

I still can't believe that I have died trying to kill my best friend's lover! But he deserved happiness as much as any one of us. Even if I die here on this wretched island, at least I know that I will never be forgotten. Something within in me says that this battle will continue on to be told. By whom, I do not know. Perhaps with these stories, no more blood would be spilled over a land that is not their own.

I closed my eyes, feeling the life now ever so slowly leaving me. I was feeling cold but my body has gone numb from the lack of pain. I was grateful. I do not think I was to bear the pain any more. I sighed within my head, wishing ever so desperately to be young again. Young enough not to have come here by force. But at least I know that everything will be all right from now on.

Arthur will have a beautiful wife, beautiful children… a beautiful home. While an unmarked grave would be mine, my ashes scattered towards the eastern winds to return home once and for all. But even then, I would return to this wretched island. Not as a man, no. But as a magnificent horse as my father once told me before I had left.

_"There is a legend that fallen knights return as great horses. He has seen what awaits you, and he will protect you."_

And he was right. Bleddig has protected me for the last fifteen years. But this time he was not able to. Perhaps he had knew it was my time and had let faith, destiny—whatever you want to call it—take it's course. What I would do to return to the innocent life I have long lost when I was taken here.

Now as my heart slowly pumps, I exhale my last breath, feeling my soul ripped from my body. Next thing I knew, I open my eyes to see nothing but land before me. I then knew that I was neither alive again nor in spirit. I had come back as a horse, somewhere _away _from the battle I was just in. I felt neither young nor old. Perhaps this was a good sign. As I turned I saw another black stallion and a white stallion, both as though waiting for me.

I knew then that these were my friends. My fallen friends. I guess one of them died in the battle along with me. We galloped away, I of course leading them. Towards where? I have no clue. But I feel my feet guiding me. Perhaps it's towards our other friends. Our fallen comrades… our fallen brothers. It would be great to see them again, even in the shape of a horse. I would be home again.


End file.
